Taking a trip down memory lane can sometimes be a good thing, sometimes a bad thing, and then there are times when it’s just downright spooky. Today’s trip definitely fell into the spooky line.
This morning I had to go back to my old high school for work; it was the first time I’d walked through those doors in almost 15 years. And my goodness, a flood of nostalgia nearly bowled me right over. Walking into the front foyer, I knew if I turned right it would have led me to the science wing, if I climbed the stairs, I would have ended up in my math and family management classrooms, and if I went left and took a flight down the stairs, I would have walked through the doors of Mrs. Collins’ English class, my favourite class.
My class was the second graduating class of Bateman, everything here was brand new. So when I first approached the doors today, I was a little taken aback by how old and worn they looked with scratches and graffiti and chipped paint covering them like the wrinkles of an old man.
I walked through the foyer, passed the water fountain wall that seems to no longer be a water fountain, just a wall, passed the display of sculpted artwork that kids in my grade did the first year the school was opened, and just steps from my Grade 12 locker. Memories of best-friend conversations, and wild laughter and teenage tears in the bathroom were so strong in my head it was as though I was back there all over again. It was definitely a spooky start to the day.
Have you ever gone back to your old high school?
TONIGHT’S RUN:
- 6:15 p.m. BG before: 5.0 (granola bar and 1 DEX)
- Temp basal: -50 per cent
- Distance: 10 km tempo
- Average pace: 6:02
- Time: 1:00:19
- 8 p.m. BG after: 5.4
I spent a good portion of tonight’s run trying to figure out how best to describe it, and I think just one word comes to mind: Lonely. Actually, that’s not true, I’ve got more words. It was lonely, dark, scary, and yeah, it kind of really sucked. I went out with the Running Room tonight, because I didn’t want to do 10 km in the dark by myself. And the beauty of the Running Room is that you don’t ever run alone. Supposedly.
I tagged along with the marathon clinic which was running the same distance. And maybe it was my fault because I don’t know their routines or how they’re organized, and maybe I was expecting too much, given the amazing, super duper organized experience I had with my clinic. But I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t have been running 95 per cent of the run by myself – through pretty much every sketchy, not-well-lit parts of town there were. Not cool.
How do you get around running at night if you don’t have a running partner?
princessofpavement.com 